Sarah had always been the quiet one in our circle, the girl who blushed at dirty jokes and kept her legs crossed tight. That changed the night she met Marcus at the bar. I watched it happen from across the room, my own cock twitching in my jeans as she leaned in closer to him, her hand resting on his thick forearm. He was tall, dark, built like a linebacker, and when he whispered something in her ear she laughed loud and dirty, the kind of laugh that said she was already thinking about his cock.
We went back to his place because she insisted. The moment the door closed she was on her knees, yanking his belt open like she had been starving for it. His cock sprang out, long and heavy, veined and black as night, way bigger than mine. Sarah stared at it, eyes wide, then wrapped both hands around the shaft and started stroking.
"Fuck, it's so thick," she moaned, her voice already thick with lust. She licked the head, tasting the precum, then opened wide and took as much as she could. Spit ran down her chin as she gagged and slurped, making filthy wet sounds that filled the room. Marcus grabbed her hair and fucked her mouth, pushing deeper until her throat bulged. She didn't pull back. She moaned around the meat and reached down to rub her pussy through her soaked panties.
I sat on the couch and watched, my own dick out, stroking slow. She glanced at me once, eyes glassy, then went back to sucking like I wasn't even there. When Marcus pulled her up and bent her over the arm of the couch, she spread her legs without being told. He ripped her panties aside and slammed into her in one thrust. Sarah screamed, a raw, broken sound, as that huge black cock stretched her pussy wide. Her juices ran down her thighs while he pounded her, balls slapping loud against her clit.
"Harder, fuck me harder," she begged, pushing back to take every inch. "Make me your slut." Marcus grinned and obliged, gripping her hips and driving in so deep she had to stand on her toes. Her tits bounced with every thrust, nipples hard, and she kept talking, filthy words spilling out nonstop. "Your cock's ruining me, I can't go back, I need this black dick every night."
He flipped her onto her back on the floor and folded her legs up to her chest, pounding straight down into her soaked cunt. She came hard, squirting around his shaft, but he didn't stop. He kept fucking her through it until she was shaking and babbling, then pulled out and painted her face and tits with thick ropes of cum. Sarah licked it off her lips, scooped it with her fingers, and sucked them clean like she couldn't get enough.
That was just the start. The next weekend she invited two of his friends over. She wore nothing but heels and a collar Marcus had bought her that said "Black Cock Only." She got on all fours in the middle of the living room and let them use her however they wanted. One fucked her mouth while the other took her from behind, stretching her pussy until she was gaping and dripping. When they switched to her ass she begged for it, pushing back as the thick head popped inside and sank deep. They double-teamed her for hours, filling every hole, making her cum until she was hoarse from screaming.
She started dressing different too, short skirts with no panties, low-cut tops that showed off her tits. At parties she would disappear with whoever had the biggest bulge, coming back with cum running down her legs and a satisfied smile. One night she made me watch while Marcus and another guy took turns on her for three straight hours. She rode them reverse cowgirl so I could see her stretched pussy swallowing those black cocks, then got on her knees and let them both finish in her mouth at the same time. She swallowed most of it but let some spill down her chin, looking right at me while she did it.
By the end of the month she was talking about getting a tattoo above her pussy that said "Black Owned." She spent more nights at Marcus's place than at ours, coming home smelling like sex and sweat, her holes still slick. When she did stay over she would ride me but only after making me lick her clean first, telling me how much better those other cocks felt. I ate her out while she described every detail, her voice raw and direct, until she came on my tongue and then rolled over to sleep.
She never went back to being the quiet girl. Once she got a taste she became exactly what the words said, a girlfriend who lived for black cock, who spread her legs or dropped to her knees the second she saw one. And every time I watched or heard about it, I got harder than ever, knowing she was gone for good and loving every filthy second of it.
